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<title>Cry Birdie, Tears of Joy by LovelessLadyLazarus</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142774">Cry Birdie, Tears of Joy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessLadyLazarus/pseuds/LovelessLadyLazarus'>LovelessLadyLazarus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fast Times at the Iceberg Lounge [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, It's Ed and the Riddler, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:02:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessLadyLazarus/pseuds/LovelessLadyLazarus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time he awakes to Oswald crying he figures it’s an outlier. It has to be, for how could Oswald be crying after making such beautiful, dazzling love? The second time he claims it had been a nightmare and naively enough, Ed had believed him. He himself was rather acquainted with the intimate dread of night terrors. It is humiliating for him to admit that took him two more times to spot the pattern. Three should have been enough to spot the pattern. </p><p>Very soft sequel to "It's not Beauty that Reigns"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fast Times at the Iceberg Lounge [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138982</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cry Birdie, Tears of Joy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time he awakes to Oswald crying he figures it’s an outlier. It has to be, for how could Oswald be crying after making such beautiful, dazzling love? The second time he claims it had been a nightmare and naively enough, Ed had believed him. He himself was rather acquainted with the intimate dread of night terrors. It is humiliating for him to admit that took him two more times to spot the pattern. Three should have been enough to spot the pattern. </p><p> </p><p>Oswald’s body quivers. There’s muffled sounds echoing from the other side of the bed. Sobs that seems to haunt the too large bedroom. While his eyes still adjust to the darkness he can see his Bird turned away from him. Oswald isn’t aware he is awake which is good, as Ed has no idea how to react. He is socially awkward at the best of times. </p><p> </p><p>“Ozzie?”</p><p> </p><p>The sobbing stops, Oswald is lying completely still, like he is paralysed with fear. The silence that swallows them is almost surreal. “Can I touch you?” he isn’t sure why he asks; Oswald just suddenly so seems vulnerable.</p><p> </p><p>He whimpers in a vaguely affirming manner, so Ed reaches out to caress his shoulder. Oswald shivers again; they touch and for a moment Ed is worried he will shy away. “Will you look at me Little Bird?” When there is no response he adds, “please?”</p><p> </p><p>Oswald turns, Ed isn’t sure if it’s because he knows he hates to beg or because he can hear the sincerity in his voice. The surrounding darkness extinguishes most of the emotion present on Oswald’s face. Ed curses it for that. Were the light more plentiful he could make out the sorrow in that one blue eye. Oswald eye was always the most beautiful after he cried.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Cry me rivers Birdie and I shall drown, for nothing will ever compare to your affections.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He reaches for the light on his nightstand and cringes when the bulb burns a little too brightly. It’s awkward, they’re both naked, it shouldn’t be, but it is.</p><p> </p><p>Oswald’s eyes are indeed beautiful; clear and blue, the colour a lake would be in the mountains. “Come here” Ed mutters and Oswald lets himself fall into his arms. His back is turned, so Ed still can’t truly see his face. “What is it Ozzie? Did I hurt you?”</p><p> </p><p>At first Oswald doesn’t respond, then he chokes out another sob and all Ed can do is hold him tighter. “Did I?” He had hurt him during sex before. But Ozzie had just let him and despite his insistent apologies afterwards just promised him it was fine. <em>It wasn’t. </em></p><p> </p><p>“No Ed, you didn’t hurt me, not in the way you are implying at least.” What was that supposed to mean? His little Bird’s voice sounded surprisingly steady, clear even.</p><p> </p><p>“Os…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so incredibly happy Ed,” he pauses, “you love me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do, I love you.” He reassures quickly. It wasn’t a question but after learning about Oswald’s insecurities the hard way, he makes a point to remind his Birdie as often as possible.</p><p> </p><p>He can hear his chuckle lightly through his tears, “I love you too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what is it?” Ed asks, growing evermore anxious. It has taken him a while, but he learned to decipher the distinctness between tears of joy and sorrow and the ones running down Oswald’s cheeks were definitely the latter kind.</p><p> </p><p>“I wake up and I’m so extatically happy, Ed. I guess I’m just waiting for someone to pull the rug from underneath my feet…” he trails off and in the dimness Ed can see his fingers slowly moving to the spot where he had shot Oswald half a lifetime ago. Now there is a scar, Ed couldn’t bear to look at it for too long without breaking down into hideous self-loathing. Not because he regrets it, not really, this is Gotham after all, he did what he had to, but the scar did serve as a constant reminder of the permanence of their shared past; a shadow they would never be able to shed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not gonna leave you.” He says for lack of a better response.</p><p> </p><p>“So you’ve said,”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean it.”</p><p> </p><p>His Little Bird turns and pecks his cheek, “I know you do, now dear, but how about we talk more about this over tea?”</p><p> </p><p>Ed gets up and pulls on some underwear. A little drowsy and confused, he wonders into the kitchen. Despite having stopped sobbing, Oswald didn’t really seem much better than before they’d talked. Besides, the tears had most likely only ceased because Ed had found him. Not that Ozzie was ashamed to cry, he just didn’t want to worry Ed. After all he knew of Ed’s troubles with human emotion. Speaking of trouble, the kitchen is almost ablaze, light shines in through the windows and in the crisp white tiles behind the sink he can see his reflections staring back at him. They move.</p><p> </p><p>“So, the little Birdie’s crying and you can’t help him?” his reflection asks.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not like that.” He says turning on the tap, hoping the water would make it disappear. <em>It doesn’t.</em></p><p> </p><p>“The way I see it,” his reflections tap their lip in mock thought, “the two of you have been having mind blowing sex for the past few weeks, presumably after which he has lied awake crying every time because you’re doing something wrong. You’re not enough. Do you see it a different way?”</p><p> </p><p>Ed puts the kettle down, it settles with a hollow, metallic clink. “He thinks I’m enough, he loves me!”</p><p> </p><p>“You?” his reflection chuckles, “after everything you’ve done to him? You’re irredeemable Ed and worse you’re boring! It’s me he wants; I’m the charming one and I’m useful, you on the other hand, not so much.” They say the last few words slowly, annunciating carefully.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not true!” Ed’s fingers close around the teabags he is holding, crushing them.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a rather pathetic response, don’t you think? Remember Arkham Ed? How he was begging for me? He didn’t want you, you couldn’t help him. I did that. Don’t you understand? He chose me that night. Me!”</p><p> </p><p>“I-” the water is almost boiling, Ed fumbles with the teapot, trying to keep his hands busy. No longer does he see himself in every tile, now they compose a bigger picture of a man in a green suit and bowler hat.</p><p> </p><p>“And now tell me, what can sneak up on you or be in front of you the whole time without you knowing. But when it reveals itself,”</p><p> </p><p>“You will never be the same.” Ed finishes.</p><p> </p><p>His reflection smiles approvingly. It chuckles again, the laugh climaxes in a shrill scream, “Betrayal!” On the stove he hears the kettle whistling. He reaches for it, burns him hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Ed?”</p><p> </p><p>He turns. His little Bird is standing the in doorway. He’s wearing a silk bathrobe that goes down to his ankles, Ed is relieved but also strangely disappointed. He likes Oswald naked almost as much as Oswald likes him in the nude. “Shall I help you with that, do you need anything?” his Birdie asks frantically.</p><p> </p><p>“With what?” then he looks down. His left hand has turned a sickly reddish colour and with the realisation so too does the pain finally reach him.</p><p> </p><p>They sit on a sofa, Oswald is clutching a steaming cup of tea, Ed a pack of frozen peas. “What happened dear?” his little Bird asks. Were he a braver man, Ed might stare into that deep devoted eye and spills his heart’s every worry. But Ed isn’t that brave, besides they weren’t here to talk about him.</p><p> </p><p>“I, well,” he pauses, “I was so worried about you and distracted and lost in thought,” he rambles, “so when you suddenly appeared I panicked and accidentally burned myself.” He knows he’s talking too fast and too much judging by Oswald’s unconvinced expression, he picked up on it too. Not to be questioned though, he quickly continues, “but that’s not what we’re here to talk about.”</p><p> </p><p>Oswald looks down, “no, it’s not Eddie.”</p><p> </p><p>They stare at each other in silence for some time before Ed asks, “it’s not the sex, is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“No Ed, it’s not the sex.” He giggles.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good,” Oswald gives him a quizzical look, “I’m just making sure.” He couldn’t bear the idea of hurting him like that again. That night when he had stared into a mirror he hadn’t seen himself, hadn’t even seen the Riddler, only a cruel imitation of what his father was. Later Oswald had to clean the shards from his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Another heavy silence follows.</p><p> </p><p>When Oswald speaks again, Ed has almost forgotten what they are doing sitting out here in the first place. The frozen peas are not that frozen anymore and his hand stings. “It’s not that I can’t be happy,”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s that you can’t be happy with me.” Ed finished for him.</p><p> </p><p>Oswald looks pained, “don’t say it like that,” He turns his head, on the verge of tears most likely.</p><p> </p><p>Biting his lip, Ed looks down. The fingers of his good hand are twitching, grasping at loose threads from the sofa they are sitting on. There’s a huge window in front of them, through which they can observe the city skyline, “but that’s it, isn’t it?” Ed pauses, his fingers feel the delicate texture of Oswald’s bathrobe, “you can’t be happy.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I can be!” the words escape Oswald’s throat louder than either of them had anticipated, “I can be, given time of course. I love you Ed Nygma and you love me too. That should be all that matters.” Ed is staring straight ahead, but he can feel Oswald caressing his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>“Evidently not,” his voice sounds empty, distant; he spoke with an underlying cruelty he hadn’t intended. The hand drops.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t break me you know,” Oswald says spitefully, “not the first time when I was mayor and not the times after that. And neither did Sofia Falcone. You both hurt me I won’t deny that but neither of you ever managed to break me. So don’t tell me I can’t be happy Ed, just because that might take some work. Don’t tell me we’re not enough-” his voice cracks, he lurches forward and suddenly he’s sobbing again, violently this time.</p><p> </p><p>Ed closes his eyes, but when that makes the sound worse he opens them again. Sofia Falcone had payed for everything she had done; being dead, or as good as, but oh she deserved to suffer. Her effort was admirable sure, so admirable Ed would probably love her, if he didn’t hate her so much. No one got to hurt his Birdie, not anymore. Speaking of which, what was he going to do about him?</p><p> </p><p>“Ozzie, I didn’t mean it like that.” He did sound pathetic, didn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>The Bird sniffles “Really? In that case do impart your wisdom upon me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I well,” he pauses, “I just hate the fact that I always make you cry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Eddie, I can promise you that you have more than made up for any pain you have caused me. What is hard to believe is that you still want me.”</p><p> </p><p>“And why is that Ozzie?”</p><p> </p><p>Oswald closes his eyes slowly, like he was suffering a terrible realisation. “when I look at you Ed, you’re so beautiful, so alive. You’re dazzling, sometimes literally. But mostly it is your intellect. You delight in everything you do, I envy that. You enter a room and fill it up. Then there’s me. I’m old. I have lost an eye and one of my legs is getting worse by the month. I wouldn’t have been called attractive before I gained weight, but now…” he trails off and in a dreadful second Ed realises his Bird is too afraid – <em>too ashamed?</em> – to look up at him. “I guess I’m wondering what I could possibly have to offer you?”</p><p> </p><p>Ed couldn’t help but smile, Oswald’s words were soft and sweet but more importantly they were sincere “Ozzie, my Little Bird, what costs nothing but is worth everything, weighs nothing but can last a lifetime,  one person can't hold it but two can share?” when he doesn’t get a reply he continues, “let’s do it in chronological order. I shine, obviously, but mostly, when I’m with you. There are so many things I love about you. I mean your mind is sparkling and positively wicked. And your nose, it’s my favourite place to kiss you. You’re not old, not even ten years my senior, so don’t pretend you’re dying. You lost the eye in battle for me. How incredibly romantic is that? But even without it, you are still magnificently handsome to me.”</p><p> </p><p>At this Oswald snorts.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m being serious, when we first met I thought, <em>damn that man wears power well. </em>You were so attractive to me, not because of the way you looked, but mind you I adore that as well, but because of the way you poised yourself. The way you took the things they would hold against you and made them your own.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you don’t actually think I’m handsome?” Oswald asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Birdie, I think your stunning. Especially now, that you’re a little thicker in the middle. I like that you let me spoil you.”</p><p> </p><p>Oswald seems unsure how to replay to that, “Why are you so sweet to me?” he asks, “Actually never mind. You know, Victor told me to simply enjoy myself or something like that, I think I would like to try. I want to be happy Ed, with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds lovely, my love,” Zsasz huh? He was going to pay the hitman a visit soon. But for now, they sit, side by side, staring out through the large window. The sun is rising, Ed decides to see it as a symbolic occurence. He holds Oswald tighter.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I decided fuck it, this is gonna be a series now, but all the works should stand up on their own. Also I think I'm gonna mostly use Ed as my PoV character in the future. Otherwise, thank you for reading as always, comment any thoughts you may have They make me very happy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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